


Saturnalia

by blktauna



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1649483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blktauna/pseuds/blktauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Xmas Eve, at home, with the Lads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturnalia

"Come on, Ray... give us a feel..."

Bodie was chipper from the punch and grabby with it as they stumbled back from one of the Ministry's holiday do's. He dragged Doyle into a nearby shop doorway and tried to kiss him.

Doyle clipped him on the ear. "Leave off, you."

"Spoilsport. It's late and no one's looking."

"Bodie..." but Doyle was chuckling.

"I have mistletoe..." Bodie pulled the pathetic scrap of foliage from his pocket and hung it over his head.

Doyle just stared for a moment before letting go of one of his dirty laughs. "All right you mad bastard. That gets you a kiss."

Bodie grinned and puckered up.

Doyle leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Right there's your kiss. Now hurry on up home so I can have my pressies."

Bodie sulked artfully, but managed to grab a nice feel as he passed back out onto the street. "Not shrunken with the cold, are you?' he quipped.

"No, and not likely to be with your hands all over me. Now get a move on." Doyle nipped Bodie's ample bottom and sent him cackling away in a rush.

Doyle bolted after him, and when he caught up, he tried to shove his cold hands between the flaps of Bodie's very stylish coat to the tune of much cackling and squealing protest.

"Gerroff !!!" Bodie batted at him, slapping at Doyle's arms and hands, but with no force.

They wriggled and wrestled a goodly way down the street until they came to their own door. Bodie slammed up against it, trying to get his gloved hands under Doyle's ridiculously short coat.

The alarm warning beeped at them.

"Shit," they gasped in unison.

Bodie snatched the key from Doyle and quickly unlocked the door. Doyle then bolted through and punched a long sequence of numbers onto a very tiny keyboard.

"That thing is too bloody small..." Bodie squinted at it.

"You just need glasses."

"Piss off," he grabbed at Doyle's arse as he careered into the living room. "Ahh, look at our beautiful tree! Toddy?"

Doyle closed the front door and removed his coat. "Yes, and keep your hands off the fruitcake while you're in there," Doyle admonished, as Bodie bounced into the kitchen to make hot toddies.

The tree was beautiful. A thick fir covered in rude paper cut-outs, paper chains, tinsel, ornaments made from assorted spent shell casings and Bodie's collection of Victorian glass baubles. Then there was the topper. It was a little red glass thing with a pointed top in which the remnants of the shells pulled out of Doyle's chest several years before were encased. Bodie was such the sentimentalist - he'd had it made for the first Christmas after the shooting.

Doyle smiled and went over to look at the wrapped gifts beneath. There were the usual assortment of gaily presented bottles and little hampers, but he spied a small box in metallic paper sprinkled with lurid green and red wreaths, a violent pink ribbon and a tag with his name on it done in Bodie's neat lettering. He seized up the box and shook it. Not a sound.

"What'd you get me?" Doyle held up the box as Bodie appeared with the drinks.

"Not ruining the surprise, am I?" he handed Doyle his glass.

"Bastard," Doyle chuckled.

Bodie lay sprawled on the sofa with hot toddy in hand and a content look on his face. He beamed up at Doyle in a drunkenly affectionate way. "This is the best Christmas we've had in a long time, Ray. Just you, me, a nice fire, and no interruptions. I'm liking this retirement lark."

"I'm opening this now."

"Got no patience, you."

"That's something coming from you."

"Suit yourself. Have nothing to open on the morning."

Doyle tore open his gift. The paper was shredded away and the ribbon tossed on the floor. Bodie had packed it with oddly coloured tissue just to slow him down. He hurriedly pulled everything out and made a shocked sound when he saw the contents. Inside was a slim bracelet, similar to the one he'd lost a few years back and never replaced. "You said you hated that thing."

"Didn't like silver," Bodie winked.

"Is this platinum?"

Bodie just grinned beautifully. "Look at the inside."

Doyle looked carefully. He had to squint but on one end was W.B. and on the other R.D. Between their initials, in script, "with the deepest affection" was delicately engraved.

Doyle stared at him, gob-smacked. "You great, soft git."

Bodie preened a bit and saluted him with his toddy. "Its beauty pales in comparison to yours."

Doyle just groaned. "Sounds like you're going to recite again..."

"Me? Never. Though it does bring something to mind..."

"Go on, spill it. You'll be hinting for the rest of the night otherwise..." Doyle sighed and rubbed the bracelet tenderly.

"Right... "Bodie took a sip of his toddy and began. "Drink to me, only, with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, and I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise, doth ask a drink divine: But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine."

"There's more than that... I know it."

"Yeah but it's not got to do with drink, so I never remember it."

Doyle threw the box at him, thwapping him squarely on the forehead.

Bodie dissolved into high pitched giggles and threw it back.

It bounced off Doyle's chest back into the pile.

Doyle slipped the bracelet on and stomped over to the sofa. "Mad bastard. Thank you. It's beautiful." He sprawled over Bodie - carefully removing the toddy glass - and began to snog him with serious intent.

"I could get used to that..." Bodie was a bit breathless when Doyle finally let him go.

"Lazy sod, only because I'm doing all the work."

"Mmm, true. Worship me as is my due."

"Fat chance..." Doyle mocked as he wiggled the somewhat lax flesh around Bodie's middle.

"That's relaxed, that is..." Bodie tried to suck it in.

"Yeah relaxed from laziness. And gluttony."

Bodie snorted delicately and pouted.

Doyle grinned at him then proceeded to kiss the pout away.

Bodie wrapped his arms around Doyle and held him tightly.

"You wound me when you talk like that. Deeply." Bodie made big eyes at him.

"All right, all right... what do you want?" Doyle sighed.

"Where's me pressie?" Bodie's face lit up with childlike glee.

When he looked like that Doyle was hard pressed to refuse him anything, even on his worst days, and today was not one of those. They had a beautiful flat, each other, and the prospect of a good life ahead. No, today was not bad at all.

"Would you like your present, or more of this?" He leaned down for another kiss, this time pressing close. Bodie's hands immediately came up and cupped his bottom, squeesing. Doyle let go of the kiss and chuckled. "Does my arse have some sort of magical attraction to your hands?"

"Might do," Bodie leered, stealing another squeese.

"Come on then, opening presents or not?"

"Not."

Bodie scooped Doyle up off the sofa and carried him into the bedroom. He cackled as they both plummeted to the bed in a pile of flailing limbs. "You're not so willow thin anymore, my dear... I nearly did myself serious injury."

"Shoes off my duvet!" Doyle barked.

"Yes, Lord!" Bodie saluted.

Doyle began tickling him without mercy. Bodie howled and squirmed, giving back as good as he got, until they both subsided into heaving gasps for air.

"Christ, it used to take longer than that to get me winded," Doyle remarked.

"And we haven't even got started yet."

Doyle whacked Bodie in the head with one of the pillows and kicked his shoes off. Bodie stopped him from undoing his shirt. "No... no, love. I want to undo my present." He leaned over, slowly kissing along Doyle's neck and over his chest. "Lie back, love. You know how I enjoy this." He rubbed his hands over Doyle's chest, always pausing over that one bad spot. He smiled every time he laid his hands there and felt Doyle's heart beating. He treasured each day that he could do so.

"Get on with it..." Doyle chuckled.

"Fast off the mark are we now, old man?"

That got him another clip on the ear, but Bodie ignored it and settled down to rubbing his face over Doyle's chest as he peeled the dreadful plaid shirt away. He left little pink marks everywhere he stopped. Doyle was sighing happily in Bodie's arms and stroking his hair until his tongue hit one of Doyle's nipples. Encouraged by the harsh groan, Bodie laved and toyed with it until it was flush pink and erect. He let his hands wander to see if anything else was coming up flush pink and erect. It was. He eased Doyle's zip down and rubbed his hand over the bulge.

"The perfect handful," he purred into Doyle's ear.

"Got big hands, don't you..."

They both snickered and kissed again as Bodie eased Doyle's trousers down. He took hold of Doyle's cock and gave it a good squeese.

"All for me."

"Oi, you aren't testin' fruit, you know..." Doyle laughed.

"Aren't I?" Bodie's brow arched and he grinned.

"Bastard."

Bodie just wiggled his tongue at Doyle and kissed him on the nose. "I shall be licking my way down your torso until I reach your fine todger, at which time I shall proceed to plate the living daylights out of you. Okay by you?"

"Well, if you must," Doyle barely suppressed a laugh.

"Right." Bodie rubbed his hands together with gusto and set to work. He'd always liked the way Doyle smelled, like leather and guns but with that distinct Doyleness that he'd never found anywhere else. He inhaled deeply as he tenderly licked his way down Doyle's torso, enjoying the hint of alcohol and Whitehall cigar from the party.

He kissed each bullet scar as he passed, gloating in the fact that they were unable to take Doyle from him. More than bullets would be needed for that. He sucked more little red marks over Doyle's furry belly. Fortunately time had filled him out some. Doyle didn't like it so much, but Bodie did and proceeded to worship every last extra inch.

"Bodie..." Doyle whispered harshly. "Don't stop..."

Bodie had no intention of stopping. He nibbled his way down to the base of Doyle's cock and kissed his balls. They were quite tight already. "Eager?" he camped.

"Get sucking," Doyle commanded breathlessly.

"So romantic."

Bodie immediately did as ordered, gleefully slurping and sucking up and down the length of Doyle's stiff cock. His hand came around to gently grip Doyle's balls, caressing and squeezing them in counterpoint to his sucks. He could feel them tremble in his hand so he sped up, wanting to taste Doyle as well as smell him.

In a few moments Bodie had his wish, Doyle writhing under him, filling his mouth with the taste he so craved. He swallowed greedily and licked Doyle's spent cock clean.

"My legs are numb..." Doyle growled.

"Was good, wasn't it?"

"You're on them, you berk. Get up here so I can kiss you... " Doyle mumbled.

Bodie quickly kissed his way back up and planted another long one on Doyle's full lips. This time it was Doyle's hands that roamed. Bodie practically purred with every touch. Doyle's hands always made him shivery on the inside. Especially his long fingers and especially if they were on the inside of him. He rubbed along Doyle's hip, letting him feel how hard he'd got.

"See what you do to a fella?" He nibbled on Doyle's earlobe.

Doyle's hand clamped over his cock and squeesed.

Bodie moaned happily and rubbed against it.

"Randy bastard," Doyle licked Bodie's lips and continued to massage his cock. "Now I have you, what shall I do with you?"

"Get me out of my expensive trousers?"

Doyle cackled and shoved Bodie flat, undoing his trousers.

"Go on, hoist that big bottom of yours up so I can get them off."

Bodie obliged as he undid his shirt and wriggled out of it. He splayed out invitingly as soon as he was free of his clothes.

Doyle smiled down at him and tossed his own shirt away. He lay atop Bodie, like a blanket, kissing him deeply.

"My very own golly..." Bodie arms snaked around Doyle's waist and held him tight. "And nowhere to be but here."

"Feels odd, doesn't it?"

"Feels nice."

"Don't think you need to save the world anymore?"

"No, darling, that was always your department," Bodie snickered.

Doyle rolled his eyes and started chewing his way down Bodie's neck. He teased the spot near the base of Bodie's neck that always got him squirming. He chuckled as Bodie did indeed begin to squirm and moan. "Mmm, this is much more fun."

Bodie just sighed happily and played with Doyle's bottom. "Perfect fit for my great big hands..." he chuckled.

"And here I thought you wanted some."

"Sometimes just having you close is enough. That was the best present you ever gave me Ray, staying alive. I've enjoyed it every day since."

"You're most welcome, my dear. Most welcome. But I have something else for you now." Doyle's hands caressed Bodie's muscular thighs as he sat back on his heels. "A nice long kiss for my love at Christmas..." He bent down and took the head of Bodie's full, dark cock into his mouth.

The sight of Doyle's curls bobbing was one of Bodie's favourite things and he expressed his appreciation in loud and very certain terms. He was just drunk enough to be slow off the mark, but not so drunk that he couldn't enjoy it.

Bodie tangled his fingers in Doyle's hair and moaned. He let Doyle go as he pleased until the flutters of pleasure in his belly took him to his breaking point. He pleaded for it to never stop. Doyle chuckled and swallowed him down to the root. Bodie came with a long satisfied groan.

"Bloody Christ... I love it when you laugh..." he panted.

"I know," he grinned, kissing the tip of Bodie's spent cock. "That's why I do it. One day I'll just hum."

"That's evil, that is," he purred happily. "Ray, why don't we just stay in here for the night?"

"Yeah, I'm knackered too," Doyle chuckled, wrestling with the covers.

"I haven't forgot about my present, you know."

"Damn."

"You didn't get me anything, did you?"

Doyle just hummed and snuggled up against Bodie.

"You didn't, did you..."

"You'll have to wait till tomorrow to find out, won't you?"

Bodie harrumphed and wound himself around Doyle. He'd already seen the new bauble with portraits of them as cherubs shooting arrows at Cowley, but Doyle didn't know that. His eyes were closing with the languor of overindulgence and he judged it to be a fine Christmas all around.

"Happy Christmas, you cheap bastard," he murmured.

"Happy Christmas, you dumb crud."

*******  
End  
2005

 

**Author's Note:**

> The poem Bodie quoted:   
> To Celia 
> 
> DRINK to me, only, with thine eyes,  
> And I will pledge with mine;   
> Or leave a kiss but in the cup,  
> And I'll not look for wine.   
> The thirst that from the soul doth rise,  
> Doth ask a drink divine:   
> But might I of Jove's nectar sup,  
> I would not change for thine.   
> I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,  
> Not so much honouring thee,   
> As giving it a hope, that there  
> It could not withered be.   
> But thou thereon didst only breathe,  
> And sent'st back to me:   
> Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,  
> Not of itself, but thee.
> 
>  
> 
> Ben Jonson


End file.
